"
Greer remained unimpressed. "What do you make of that?"
"Make of that! Why, man, the person who took this reckoning, took it
_this morning_! That's the only way he could have got it. There was
somebody on this schooner this morning when we sighted her."
"This morning! This _morning_! Where in Davy Jones' locker----"
Madden was leaning over the chart scrutinizing it with careful eyes. At
last he raised up in complete bewilderment.
"Farnol," he said in a queer tone, "the crew meant to come here! Meant
to sail through the Sargasso--clear away from all trade
routes--incomprehensible but--just look!"
Both boys bent above the chart, and Madden silently pointed out a row of
pin holes that marked the daily reckonings of the _Minnie B_. She
had sailed from Portland, Maine, had swung up the northern route past
Newfoundland Banks as if going to England. On this portion of her voyage
her average run was a little less than two hundred knots a day. On the
fifth day out, the _Minnie B_ inexplicably deserted the normal
trade course, turned from "E. NE." and sailed directly "S. SW." At the
same time her speed was accelerated to a trifle over three hundred knots
a day. Her last reckoning left the pin sticking in the exact longitude
and latitude which Leonard had worked out for the dock that morning.
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